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Chapters (21)
  1. Cover
  2. Landing Page
  3. A Private Function
  4. CONTENTS
  5. INTRODUCTION
  6. The Old Crowd
  7. CAST
  8. A Private Function
  9. PREFACE
  10. CAST AND CREDITS
  11. Prick Up Your Ears
  12. PREFACE
  13. CAST AND CREDITS
  14. 102 Boulevard Haussmann
  15. CAST AND CREDITS
  16. The Madness of King George
  17. PREFACE
  18. CAST AND CREDITS
  19. About the Author
  20. Also by the Author
  21. Copyright

HALLIWELL   Joe.
No answer. Halliwell sits at Orton’s desk.
I don’t understand my life. I was an only child. I lost both my parents. By the time I was twenty I was bald. I’m homosexual. In the way of circumstances and background to transcend I had everything an artist could possibly want. It was practically a blueprint. I was programmed to be a novelist or a playwright. But I’m not. And you are.
Halliwell gets his suicide pills and arranges them on the desk. He goes to the tool box and gets a hammer. He stands looking at Orton asleep.
You do everything better than me. You even sleep better than me.
Possibly Orton wakes up as Halliwell hits him, starting up shouting, ‘You stupid nutter!’ The hammer comes down several times, Orton’s blood splattering over the collage.

INT. ORTON AND HALLIWELL’S FLAT. 1967.

Halliwell sees the Evening Standard award on the desk.

HALLIWELL   I should have used that. More theatrical. You’d have spotted that straight away.
He writes a note and then adds a PS and props it neatly on the diary. It reads: ‘If you read his diary all will be explained. K. H. P.S. Especially the latter part.’ Halliwell picks up the pills and the grapefruit juice and looks at the camera.
I loved him. I must have loved him. I chose him to kill me. (He swallows the pills and drinks the juice.) Joe. John.
He lies down, leaving the frame empty. The camera pulls back from the room. Orton’s body, Halliwell dead. Sunlight streaming in through the window.

INT. ORTON AND HALLIWELL’S FLAT. DAY. 1967.

The door of the flat from the inside. The telephone rings inside the flat. Close in on the keyhole of the door. An eye looking.

INT. ORTON AND HALLIWELL’S FLAT. LANDING. DAY. 1967.

Outside door. A uniformed chauffeur is peering in through the keyhole, watched by Mrs Sugden.

MRS SUGDEN   They’re not away. It’s not five minutes since they got back from Tangier.

CHAUFFEUR   I was scheduled to pick him up at twelve. A private lunch.

MRS SUGDEN   He leads an increasingly glamorous life.

CHAUFFEUR   Is he a heavy sleeper?

MRS SUGDEN   I know nothing about his personal life. Idle curiosity has never been my strong point. Try looking through the letterbox.

CHAUFFEUR   There’s a coat.
Cut to the inside of the door.

MRS SUGDEN   (voice-over) One moment while I fetch an implement.
The coat is pushed aside by the long bicycle pump. The chauffeur’s eyes at the letterbox.
Do you know Mr Orton?

CHAUFFEUR   Not personally. I have driven him in the firm’s car to different destinations. Has the other got a bald head?

MRS SUGDEN   No. He wears a wig.

CHAUFFEUR   Can we break down this door?
Mrs Sugden calls to her husband, who is downstairs.

MRS SUGDEN   Clifford, can we break down this door?